Two Worlds: Reunion
by Tea Diva
Summary: Sven reunites with Azura after he recovers from injuries sustained while battling Haggar's Blue Fiend.  An alternate take on the ending to my fic 'Two Worlds'.


_Author's note: Since this is an alternate take on the ending of my fic, 'Two Worlds', it is recommended that story be read in its entirety to understand referenced events below. All characters/places pertaining to Voltron are owned by WEP; the rest belong to me.  
_

Sven Holgersson snapped the clasps of his suitcase shut and set it on the floor. Standing upright, he cast his gaze about the room. His smile was one of mixed elation and sorrow. After years of recuperating on Planet Ebb, he was ready to leave at last.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Sven acknowledged it, turning to smile at the older man who entered. He was impeccably groomed, like everyone on Ebb, right down to the wisps of his thinning gray hair. They shook hands. "I came by to see you off," he began. His smile warmed. "I promised myself I'd see you walk out of here under your own power, and I intend to keep it."

Just being able to stand without wavering broadened Sven's smile. "Thank you, Dr. White," he replied, nodding. As White took hold of the suitcase Sven retrieved the black jacket draped on the bed and shrugging into it. Once he secured the small, carry-on bag he announced he was ready.

The two men strolled down a beautifully decorated hallway, Sven's gait not as sure as the doctor's but steady nonetheless. He had spent the last few weeks walking with the aid of a cane, but today had decided to abandon it. Like White, Sven, too, had vowed to walk under his own power.

Windows beyond showed a thriving city built around the university. The hospital Sven had spent nearly a whole year in rose above a picturesque park setting. Sunlight shimmered on the lake's surface. Residents and students sat on benches, on blankets, or clustered by the lake shore feeding crumbs to waterfowl. He smiled slightly, recalling how often he'd watch the comings and goings from his hospital bed. The want to feel the ground beneath his feet again helped strengthen his determination all during painful physical therapy sessions.

Dr. White stopped before an elevator and, after setting the suitcase down, summoned it with a press of a button. "I took the liberty of summoning a transport for you," he informed him. Again Sven thanked the doctor. He had meant to do it himself, but hadn't found the time. "I admit I was surprised you rescinded your offer to stay on as a flight instructor," he remarked, glancing up at Sven. "I heard the staff at the spaceport was looking forward to welcoming you on board. Did something happen to change your mind?"

Sven again looked over at the lake. There was no need to hasten back to Arus to resume his role as pilot of Blue Lion. Princess Allura had done a commendable job in his absence; she had more than earned the right to stay on as part of the team. King Zarkon continued to suffer defeat, each one loosening his hold on his empire just a little more. Sven deduced it would not be long before Voltron defeated him at last.

His conversations with the princess had also revealed what his brother Sho had been doing. After fleeing Doom with Princess Romelle, Allura's cousin, he had stayed on her home planet to become part of her retinue. Allura had also mentioned Sho's romantic attachment to Romelle. The news heartened Sven. Neither Sho nor the Force needed him, so it had made the most sense to stay on Ebb. Yet he had been unable to shake the feeling that there was something else in store for him.

It was not unlike the feeling he experienced that first night the girls arrived on Arus.

Steeling himself against the flood of memories that always came at the mere thought of her, he averted his gaze. "I am going home," he responded. "In truth, I have been wanting to go back for some time now. It's been many years since I saw Earth."

"Ah, home," the doctor approved. "Few things are ever as powerful as the lure of the familiar." He cracked a small smile. "Is there someone waiting for you, perhaps?" At Sven's silence White chuckled and shook his head. "I know you to be a private man, so I will not question you further. In fact, I hope you do. After all you have endured, you deserve some peace." Rather than respond, Sven bowed his head. Yes, peace with her was ideal.

The elevator doors slid open, and the pair strode in just as others departed. White selected the main floor. "Regardless, you will be missed. A lot of the staff here thought very highly of you."

"I feel the same way," Sven admitted, smiling a little. "Everyone here helped make me as comfortable as possible given how bad I was when I arrived."

"Yes," White said, his expression turning sorrowful. "I won't lie to you, young man. There were some of us that thought you weren't going to make it, myself included. The damage was extensive." He laid a hand on Sven's shoulder with the gruff affection of a proud father. "Most people in such dreadful condition wouldn't be able to bear it, but you did. Even after that setback you pressed on."

Sven remembered that setback well. Doom's forces had attacked the planet a few months after his treatment began. There had been an explosion, one that sent him flying off his bed and crashing into the wall. Despite the paralyzing pain, he had crawled to safety and passed out. When he awoke on a cot, a pair of physicians tending to him, he had learned Voltron drove the enemy away. The team had wanted to come see him, but another distress call sent them into action.

They had kept in regular contact since then, something Sven appreciated above all else. Sometimes, when his therapy sessions hadn't gone as he had hoped, or he was experiencing side effects from new medication, those messages had been what kept him from sinking into depression. He had spent many long nights conversing with the Force, reliving memories of the days when they all had been young and untested.

The elevator stopped, the doors opening to reveal a spacious, brightly lit lobby. As the two exited someone called for White. He nodded to the young man standing in front of a group of students before turning to Sven. "It seems that I am summoned to help fashion the next generation of doctors," he commented, making Sven smile. White was as dedicated as any of the chief residents here; the fact he concealed it behind a veneer of amused resignation was part of his easygoing manner. This approach to his position had at first puzzled Sven, resulting in White once declaring him 'too serious'. The remark had brought on a memory of Lance saying the exact same thing at the Academy. Amused and feeling slightly self-conscious, he had made a more concentrated effort to relax around the doctor.

White shook Sven's hand. "It has been a pleasure sharing this momentous occasion with you, Sven. Never forget that you'll always have a place here. Take care of yourself," he added in Norwegian. Sven's smile broadened. White's knowledge of the language had at first been a necessity, for Sven, when delirious, reverted to his native tongue and made communication difficult. As a result, the pair had often spent entire sessions conversing in Norwegian.

"I won't. Thank you, sir," Sven answered in kind. With that he relieved the doctor of his suitcase, nodded one last time and the two parted ways.

When Sven neared the doors they slid open automatically and he passed through. At spotting the transport he approached it, exchanging a greeting with the driver before handing off his belongings. Yet as the liveried man loaded the trunk Sven's attention was again drawn to the lake. After some moments of consideration he requested the driver wait. The young man eyed him curiously, shrugged and settled back in the transport. Sven strode away, all conscious knowledge of his surroundings fading in the wake of the water's powerful lure. The want to be near it seemed as instinctual as breathing to him.

Soon he stood on the shore, away from the crowd, his gaze fixed on the horizon. For a time he watched the rolling waves, fascinated by how the reflected sunlight seemed to thread itself upon the surface. It was during this peaceful contemplation that he realized he was once again seeking direction. Or, to be more precise, listen for her voice again.

He gave a deep sigh, lifted his left hand, and traced the pattern on the silver ring on his little finger. The memory surfaced, as he knew it would. As he knew it must. His eyes slid closed, his mind traveling back, back...

* * *

It had rained the night before. The sand was dark brown speckled with patches of white as he made his way to the surf. Waves pounded the shore with force, sending up droplets of spray the wind carried to him as mist. He strolled along the shoreline, his hands in his pockets. The news from Galaxy Alliance was not good. A powerful, ruthless and seemingly unstoppable tyrant named King Zarkon had targeted planets allied with Earth. His fleet decimated entire populations, leaving destruction and fear in its wake. Those with kin or friends living in the systems that had been attacked were practically lining up to join the Alliance. As outraged as the rest, Sven, too, wished to do something about the atrocities. It seemed that someone else had wanted his assistance.

Two days ago a representative from the Alliance had approached him with a proposition, one that would not only satisfy his need to help, but place him directly at the forefront of the battle to come.

"_What do you know of the legend of Voltron?" the suited man had asked. He was dressed smartly in brown, his chest adorned with medals and stripes indicative of rank. _

_Sven, seated across from him in the living room of the simple home he and Sho shared, reacted with some surprise. "All the stories I've heard say he's the greatest defender of justice in the Far Galaxy," he explained. "He went to meet King Zarkon's forces but was broken apart by Zarkon's witch, Haggar." His thoughts coming swiftly together, he added, "You hope to use him in this fight." _

_The man nodded, the slight smile he wore one of approval. "I am in charge of a program created for the sole purpose of training exceptional individuals for this task. Your test scores have shown me you're smart enough to handle the technical aspects. Your response just now indicates your quick grasp of situations." Taking the file from his suitcase, he laid it atop the worn coffee table set between them. Sven glimpsed the word 'Classified' imprinted on the exterior. "What I am offering you, Mr. Holgersson, is an opportunity to help transform legend into fact. I trust you will recognize this honor."_

Sven had said nothing of the encounter to his brother. He knew Sho would insist, nigh well demand, Sven accept the offer. But Sven, as the elder and the only family Sho had, found accepting a difficult decision. And so, his heart heavy from the weary struggle between familial responsibility and a personal wish to help others, he was adrift. Looking for answers.

_Are you sad?_

Hearing this whispered question, echoing from somewhere behind him, drew his attention. He looked around, curious, finding the beach deserted. He frowned, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Those nights spent staying up late must be catching up to him. Just as he dismissed it he heard the voice again, soft, feminine, and seemingly from within his own mind.

_Why are you sad?_

Sven shook his head, unable to decide whether he was hearing things or not. Yet there was something compelling about this voice, as if he were speaking to a very dear friend. It was enough to dispel his disbelief. "People are being hurt by a tyrant," he murmured after a moment. "I was given the chance to help, but I don't know if I should leave. My brother will be alone."

There was a short pause. _You care very much for him. You're afraid something might happen._

"Yes," he admitted, never taking his eyes off the sea. He had the strangest impression this girl, whoever she was, was standing right in front of him.

_What does your heart tell you?_

Sven averted his gaze. He recalled the first time the networks showed the disturbing images depicting the aftermath of Zarkon's attacks. Cities destroyed, fire raging in the streets, dozens of people being herded by frightening, armed guards. He had been angry, horrified, but most of all, determined that the same fate would not befall Earth.

And then, just like that, he understood. He had already decided.

_You have a good heart_, she complimented. Sven heard admiration in her tone and felt oddly glad of it. _You should follow it to find your happiness._

Sven opened his mouth to speak, only to fall silent. Something told him this strange conversation was at an end. Without knowing why, he took a few steps forward, one hand outstretched. "Wait! Who are you?" There was no answer. He tried again. "Please. I want to meet again, if it's possible." Silence, broken only by the echo of waves hitting the shore. Feeling slightly bewildered, he stood there, wondering if perhaps he had imagined the entire conversation after all.

A crashing wave slammed against him, the freezing water drenching his ankles and sending a shiver coursing through his body. Stepping back, his shoes sinking into the soft sand, Sven glimpsed a cream colored seashell nestled near his right foot. As he leaned over to pick it up he heard her shyly pleased response: _I would like that. _

Sven gazed at the shell for a few moments. A sense of calm had settled upon him, and he smiled, thankful for what she had told him, glad she wanted to meet. Then, setting his jaw, he tucked it into his pocket- a reminder of their promise- and started for home. It was time to tell Sho he was joining the Alliance.

* * *

Sven, his hands in his pockets, walked along the lake, his footsteps skirting the very edge of each lapping wave. Within days he had left Norway behind for the vast, unexplored reaches of space. Sometimes it was difficult to believe that he had seen all the places he had, and that he had indeed helped bring a legend to life. Despite the circumstances that brought him to Ebb, he regretted none of it. His one true regret was that he'd never see her again.

The dull ache that had been present in his back flared up, serving to remind him that this had been the longest he'd gone without a cane. Wincing now, Sven gingerly made his way for a nearby bench and eased onto it. He began taking slow, even breaths, as if he were preparing to meditate, waiting on the pain to subside.

"I thought I'd find you down here," remarked a voice Sven would recognize anywhere. Smiling, he glanced over his shoulder in time to witness Lance's approach.

Though there was a hardness about his eyes and mouth that spoke of all he had seen, little else about him had changed. He gave every appearance of casual nonchalance: hands in his pockets, an unhurried pace, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He came to a stop beside Sven, where he spent exactly two minutes simply watching him. Then, flashing a smile that brightened his entire face, he extended his hand. Sven gripped it, very tightly. Lance surprised him further by pulling him into a swift, one-armed embrace.

They both sat, Lance leaning against the back of the bench, one arm draped over his crossed knee. "You gave us all quite a scare," he commented airily.

Sven gave a light laugh at how Lance described what had been a near-fatal accident. "It was never my intent to do that. Why didn't you tell me you were coming here?"

"Hey, come on- a member of the Voltron Force making his big comeback in a regular transport shuttle?" Lance gave a morbid shudder. "You deserve better. Comes with being a hero and all."

Sven smiled again. "Red Lion it is then."

"For me, yeah. For you, something special. Here, courtesy of the princess," Lance said, withdrawing an object from his coat pocket. At recognizing the key to Blue Lion Sven's expression softened. He accepted it with the same regard for a priceless gem. Sunlight gleamed upon the Arusian royal crest, which reflected off the silver ring he wore as he laid his hand atop it. "She thought you would like being given the chance to fly it again."

"Yes," Sven admitted, still admiring the key. "We often spoke of this. It will be good to be in the air again." A thought occurred to him and he sent Lance a questioning look. "The Lions can be flown independent of a pilot?"

Lance shook his head. "Not exactly. We were on our way back from a mission when I decided to rendezvous with you here. Besides," he added, a humorous glint in his eye, "if they could be flown without pilots we'd be out of a job."

Sven laughed as he tucked the key safely away. "The princess makes an excellent pilot herself. I heard you had a hand in training her."

"Of course. That's why she's as good as she is. So," Lance said, leaning forward, his clasped hands resting between his knees. "Any thoughts about what you'll do now? Aside from going home."

Sven nodded. "I plan on visiting my brother on Pollux. He's been wanting to introduce me to Princess Romelle."

"Yeah, Sho said something about that the last time he was on Arus. Anything else?" he asked, cracking a half smile.

Something in his tone hinted at hidden knowledge. Curious, he asked, "Do you have another suggestion for me?"

But Lance avoided the question by replying with a cryptic, "Maybe. What hotel are you staying at?"

"The suites next to the space port. I may cancel my reservation since I can leave any time thanks to you and the princess."

Lance waved off Sven's words. "No, no, don't cancel it. At least give yourself a good night's rest in a bed that isn't in a hospital. The suites, huh?" he murmured, rubbing his chin. "Glad I told them the right place."

Sven eyed him. "Excuse me?"

Lance smiled assurance, evading the verbal slip with a courtier's grace. He rose to his feet and stretched. "Well, I'm off to check on Red Lion. Oh," he said, retrieving another key and handing it to Sven. "You'll need this to get into the hangar where Blue Lion is. It's restricted access but I wouldn't worry. I'm sure at least half the planet knows who you are."

Sven, who had spent the better part of his stay confined to a hospital bed, doubted that. When he said so Lance chuckled. "Some of the planets we've freed had been without any kind of public information for months. Still the people knew our names and faces. Trust me," he said, grinning, "they'll know you."

The two made their way back to the university entrance. Lance and Sven gripped hands, the latter promising to spend some time on Arus before returning home. The pilot of Red Lion smiled and hailed a cab. Sven lingered long enough to watch his friend climb aboard, then, as the transport weaved its way into traffic, he approached the one waiting by the curb. He spent the ride watching the scenery, the key to Blue Lion a comfortable weight in his palm.

As the taxi neared the suites he became increasingly aware of..._something_ brushing the edges of his perception. His curiosity turned to recognition, followed by amazement. Could it be? No, impossible.

The transport stopped at the entrance to the suites. The feeling persisted, turning his denial into hope. There was no mistaking what this sensation meant. She was here, waiting for him. Heart pounding, he barely remembered to pay the driver and collect his things. His manner was automatic as he exchanged pleasantries with the girl behind the counter. Once he secured his room key he went right for the elevators.

The lift made its way to the third floor. A chime echoed within, and the doors opened. "Excuse me," he said, elbowing his way past other guests. Once he cleared it he strode down the narrow corridor. Beige doorways stamped with gold plated numbers whizzed by like a looping frame from an old movie until he abruptly halted.

A tall, slender man, taller than any he knew of, stood before him. Tirisekaal met Sven's gaze, inclined his head and stepped out of sight. Soon she came into view, and his breath caught in his throat.

Azura, her long, dark blue hair hanging loose about her shoulders, her pale cheeks wet with tears, gave him a loving smile. He simply stared at her for several heartbeats, transfixed. But then she was running to him, her expression one of absolute joy. Sven dropped his belongings to meet her halfway. She sobbed his name as he took her in his arms and the rest of the world fell away.

He did not know how much time had passed during those long moments spent holding and kissing her. All he did know was that he need not search for direction any longer. It was the most wonderful sensation in the world.


End file.
